Promise Me
by Chinese Bakery
Summary: We're going to play a game I invented.' Amy and Rory's relationship through the years.


_**1997**_

Rory Williams would never forget the first time he'd met Amelia Pond, on his first day at Leadworth's primary school, right in the middle of the school year.

It was the third time the Williams had moved to a new town but the ritual remained just as excruciating to Rory. He was standing by the blackboard before many pairs of curious eyes while the teacher gave the obligatory welcoming speech and couldn't help but cringe when she introduced him as Roderick Williams.

"Rory," he muttered. In the second row, two girls giggled viciously.

There were several empty seats bat the back of the class and after a short deliberation, he chose to sit next to the red-headed girl who didn't seem to care in the least about what was happening around her. She was hunched over her desk, scribbling furiously in a little notebook, and ostentatiously ignored him when he sat to her right.

He leaned a little to see what she was doing and saw that she was coloring some sort of parallelepiped with an air of intense concentration.

After a moment, she turned to eye him down disdainfully.

"Problem, _Roderick_?" she asked with an audible Scottish accent.

He sat a little deeper in his chair and waited hopelessly for the bell to ring.

* * *

During the break, he sat on a low wall in the courtyard's corner and pretended not to hear the group of kids taunting him about his longish hair and awkward demeanor.

Amelia appeared out of nowhere and sat next to him without saying a word. Convinced he was about to be teased some more, Rory conjured every little mean thing he'd ever heard about girls, redheads and Scottish people during his short life as ready-to-use counter-attacks and bid his time.

"I wouldn't mind them, if I were you," she finally said with a shrug. "Idiots. They've been calling me Loony Amy for months."

She studied him for a long moment, as if deliberating whether he was worthy of her trust, then leaned over slightly.

"Do you believe in extraterrestrial beings?" she asked, her voice the very definition of stern seriousness.

Rory's eyes widened and he shook his head.

"I met one last year. You'll never believe what he had for dinner."

* * *

Rory's parents were delighted to learn he'd made a friend so fast, as he was a shy child who'd always had trouble fitting in. Amelia was invited the next Saturday to meet with the family and have a piece of pie. The Williams were so moved by the story of the lonely orphaned girl they decided to disregard her evident strangeness.

Once the pie was eaten and the Williams were satisfied to have met the girl their son had talked about all week, the children were allowed to go and play in his room.

Amelia closed the door and sat at the desk chair -the only chair- which left Rory to stand awkwardly, waiting for instructions.

"Let's play," she said with the extraordinarily confident tone he'd learned to dread for it always seemed to get him into trouble.

"Okay. I've got some checkers, a magic set-"

"No. We're going to play a game I invented."

Rory was punished -no television for two whole weeks- for ruining one of his father's shirts and his best silk tie, but he never regretted accepting to play Raggedy Doctor with Amelia Pond.

_**2005**_

If Rory's memory had come with a proper filing system, his sixteenth summer would have been labeled "The happiest days of my life".

Every other afternoon, he went to pick up Amy at her aunt's house and they went to walk together in the fields that bordered the edge of Leadworth. Rory wasn't allowed to hold her hand until the house was out of sight and he had to keep his closed fists buried in his pockets as he felt the tip of his fingers ache to touch her.

Amy's skin was covered with freckles that seemed to multiply in the sun. He could spend hours running his fingers along her arms and neck, linking those little dots together to form random patterns or to trace words he was afraid to say out loud. Her skin was soft and pale and more importantly, he was finally allowed to touch it. He'd been dreaming about it for years.

Her lips smelled of the strawberry-scented lip gloss she carefully reapplied every evening before going home. For the rest of his life, the smell of strawberry lip gloss would remain to him the most intensely erotic scent in the world.

The best times were the few Sundays when they left early to have a picnic together. They'd lay a blanket on the grass and Amy would sit in his lap and spend the afternoon kissing his neck, caressing his hair, and letting him do the same. On those days especially, Rory had to make superhuman efforts to keep himself in check.

At the end of the day, they would sneak into the Harrison farm and feed the animals with the uneaten treats Amy's aunt had so carefully prepared.

She almost never talked about the Doctor anymore and when she did, it was always with unabashed derision.

_**2008**_

After the Doctor's departure, Amy wasn't the same for a long time. After the first few weeks, Rory grew alarmed by her constantly reddened eyes and persistent apathy.

"Do you think he'll come back?" she'd murmur to his ear at night, and Rory had to display treasures of patience and self-control to reign in on his jealousy and keep himself from bursting out in rage. Instead he'd remind her that _he_ was there and always had been. That he'd never let her down and wasn't planning on doing so. And that he'd greatly appreciate it if she could abstain from pining for other men while they were in bed together.

"That's completely different. He's not even human!" she retorted exasperatedly each time. "I've waited for him all my life. You have no idea what that feels like."

_You're wrong. I know it as well as you do_, he thought, but never told her so because he knew she wouldn't understand.

_**2010**_

Rory was already clad in his uncomfortable tuxedo when the bell rang. For a moment he thought Jeff, his best man, had finally bothered to get out of bed and took his time to answer the door.

But it was Amy who stood on his doorstep, in a miniskirt, a brightly colored jumper and a pair of Converse. Rory's first reaction was to worry about her clothes and her undone hair instead of noticing her avoiding gaze.

"You're not ready," he said in a sigh.

Amy didn't answer right away. She took a few deep breathes as if gathering her strength and he finally took in her tear-stained face, her shaking hands and defeated posture, and knew what was coming.

"Amy, are you alright?"

"No. No, I'm not ready."

It was so tempting to pretend not to understand. To tell her to hurry, that there were only a couple of hours left before the ceremony began. To talk about her dress, the flowers, her aunt that would probably have a heart attack if her bun wasn't exactly right.

But Rory understood. He'd always felt like he understood her, even back then when he didn't believe a word of her stories of benevolent aliens who time-traveled and when, truth be told, he was a little afraid of her. Since then, he'd learned to read the slightest lift of her eyebrow. He'd spend most of his life studying Amy Pond.

"I'm so sorry. I'll come back. Not just yet, but I promise I'll come back," she whispered as she caressed his wet cheek, and laid a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth.

The door closed with a soft thump. Rory heard a long wheezing sound, like an asthma-ridden motor engine, then nothing.

_**1997**_

"I'm going to show you something," she whispered conspiratorially, "but you must promise not to tell my aunt."

"What is it?"

"Promise first," she ordered. "If she finds out, she'll send me back to the therapist."

Rory raised his right hand and repeated the oath she dictated him. When he was done, Amy nodded and went to retrieve a cardboard box hidden beneath a pile of clothes in her wardrobe.

The content of the box was just as strange and fascinating as its owner. It held half a dozen dolls that all looked more or less like that Doctor she'd described so many times. Amelia had been experimenting with materials: plastic bottles, yogurt containers, old rags... Along with them he found a Barbie with suspiciously bright red hair, a blue-painted milk carton and a thin torch light wrapped in tin foil.

She gave him some time to examine her treasures before picking one out.

"Take this one. We're gonna to play a game called 'The Doctor comes back for Amelia'."


End file.
